


A Strange New World

by heeroluva



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Eluvians (Dragon Age), First Meetings, Gen, Language Barrier, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 03:37:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18307406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: The surface of the strange mirror before Ciri twists nebulously.





	A Strange New World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Isis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isis/gifts).



The surface of the strange mirror before Ciri twists nebulously. Despite the voice screaming that she shouldn’t touch it, her hand rises. Instead of meeting cool glass, her hands slides through. It’s like fluid, thicker and viscous, and before Ciri can step back, she’s dragged in, a shout rising from her lips before she’s engulfed. She falls slowly, finally landing with an oomph as the ground rises up to meet her, the sound of shattering glass echoing behind her.

Ciri has no time to gather her bearings, a hair-raising shriek the only warning she has before she’s surrounded by strange gruesome creatures. Attempting to teleport, she barely has time to duck the swing that would have surely decapitated her as her powers fizzle but don’t answer her call.

A sound behind her draws the attention of a number of the creatures, and suddenly she’s not alone, a heavily-armored, tattooed elf, joining her, evening the odds as the monsters continue to pour forth from the darkness. When the creatures finally lay dead around them, they’re covered in gore and panting. Ciri in worse shape than she cared to admit, relying heavily on her ability to teleport.

Examining the red-haired woman, who returns her regard, Ciri bobs her head as she says, “Thank you. Any chance you can tell me where we are and what those were?”

When Ciri’s words are greeted with a blank face and strange words she doesn’t recognize, Ciri tries again in Nilfgarrdian, then Elder Speech, even her limited Dwarvish, Gnomish, and Ofiri, and finally desperately in One Speech, yet still receives no response. “Well fuck.”

A low menacing sound comes from the darkness, and the strange elf tenses and says a word that Ciri doesn’t recognize, but she can gather the meaning.

Run. And so they do.


End file.
